


Don't Go Breaking My Heart

by forest_rose



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sorry about the title, M/M, Natasha is really pissed off, Protective Natasha, Steve doesn't quite get it, Warning - narrowly averted character death, Warning - swearing, accidental injury, and makes a horrible mistake, and then angsts about it at length, in Russian and English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:00:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/555627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forest_rose/pseuds/forest_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on the Avengers kinkmeme:</p><p>A 'Tony gets his arc reactor forcefully removed' story, because that's never been done before, amirite?</p><p>I'd like to see one of the Avengers casually removing the arc reactor for something (presumably something important enough to do so without asking, but definitely not important enough that they'd consider risking someone's life for it). Because none of them were ever told what it really was. They assume it's just a power source for the suit.</p><p>Tony, though, honestly thinks they all do know what it's for, and thus is horrified and betrayed. And they all learn the hard way just what it is as he lays there dying by their hand (and then fix him in the nick of time, of course).</p><p>Bonuses:</p><p>- Much comforting afterward.<br/>- He's suited up at the time. And so they take even longer to realize something's wrong, since him collapsing when he's wearing a suit they just deactivated is not particularly concerning.<br/>- Steve is the one who does the removing.</p><p>Pretty much does what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This part is rather more hurt than comfort, I'm afraid. I promise I'll make up for that in the next chapter!  
> Please don't be too upset with Natasha. She doesn't know Steve all that well at this point, and she's worried about Tony....

They had been stuck in this cell for far too long. It wasn’t that Steve was hurt, or even really afraid – the rest of the team were on their way, after all; he’d been able to get a message to Bruce before the communicators went down entirely – but he hated sitting here, unable to do anything about the situation. He was worried about Tony, too. Von Doom’s paralysis serum had worked its way out of his own enhanced metabolism very quickly, but Tony still sat in his suit, slumped against the wall, eerily still. Steve knew he was conscious; he had lifted the faceplate so he could see Tony’s eyes, and Tony was still able to blink if he worked hard at it, so they had been able to communicate enough to establish that he was awake and unharmed. He looked frightened, though, as much as Steve could tell from his eyes alone. Steve had done what he could to help him into a comfortable position, and had spent the last hour talking nonsense about the war and 1930s Brooklyn and baseball in an attempt to distract him, but he was becoming tired of hearing his own voice. He would be glad when the others arrived with the antidote Bruce had promised before the communicators failed.

As if in answer to his thoughts, he heard soft footsteps in the corridor, and then a quiet voice outside the door. ‘Cap? Stark? You okay?’

‘Natasha.’ His voice was full of relief as he scrambled to his feet and strode over to the door. ‘We’re fine; Tony’s still paralysed, but he’s not hurt. What’s the situation?’

‘All fine here too; Von Doom’s been contained. I’ve got the antidote.’

‘That’s wonderful. Can you get in? We can’t open the door from this side.’

There was a silence, then the sound of a tumble of stones. ‘Damn it. I thought I might be able to force it open, but it needs an electricity source. Can you see that metal plate on the door? It has to be connected up to some kind of power before it’ll shift, and Von Doom has fused all the electricity in the place. We can get you out – it looks like we only need to make a circuit with the door itself – but we’ll be a few hours. I need to get a generator shipped in here. Think you can hold out that long?’

‘Sure, but – hold on a minute. I think I have something.’ Steve looked speculatively over at Tony, remembering a conversation they had had just a few short weeks ago, not long after the battle in New York.

_’How do you power the suit, anyway? It must run on electricity, right?’ Steve looked admiringly at the sleek red and gold armour._

_Tony grinned. ‘It does. What, you thought my pretty light was just for decoration?’ He thumped the arc reactor proudly. ‘This baby gives me all the power I need. An inbuilt power source for the suit, right here. Clean energy, and more powerful than any generator. Like it?’_

_Steve nodded, impressed. ‘I sure do.’_

Steve walked over to Tony, bending down beside him. ‘Hold on, Tony. Natasha’s outside, but she can’t get in. I just need to borrow this for a moment.’ Deftly, as he had seen Tony do once when he had to change the reactor after a battle, he gripped the edges of the arc reactor and pulled it out of Tony’s chest, long wires trailing after it. He turned away, crossing back to the door without looking back.

‘No need to get that generator; we’ve got our own right here. Give me a moment.’ Steve knelt next to the door, clipping the two wires to each side of the metal plate embedded in it. The plate began to glow softly, emitting a gentle thrumming sound, and Steve smiled to himself.

‘We’re in business. Try it now.’

There was a series of clicks, and then a grating sound as the door slid slowly open. Steve grinned widely as Natasha stepped through, holding a vial of pale blue liquid, a faint graze high on her cheekbone but otherwise apparently unharmed.

‘I’m impressed,’ she admitted with a small smile. ‘How did you do that?’

Steve gestured proudly to the arc reactor, still hanging from the glowing door panel. Natasha followed his gaze, and then abruptly her demeanour changed. She ripped the arc reactor from the door, and then spun on her heel, rushing to Tony’s side. Steve followed her, confused and alarmed, then caught his breath as she began to tear the suit away from Tony’s body. Tony’s face was ashen, his lips blue, and his eyes were wide with unmistakeable terror. Tear tracks ran from the corners of his eyes into his hair, and Steve crouched beside him, horrified. ‘Tony?’

Natasha ignored him, tearing the chestplate from Tony’s armour, exposing the gaping hole where the arc reactor should be. Deftly, she reached into his chest, plugging the wires back in with a click, speaking softly to him all the time.

‘It’s okay, Stark. You’re all right. Just breathe. You’re fine.’ There was an undercurrent of fear and anger in her words, and she took a moment to brush the hair from his forehead before taking the vial of liquid, unsheathing the needle and plunging it into Tony’s upper arm. The effect was almost immediate; Tony brought his arms up across his chest, gasping for breath, turning his too-white face away from Steve. Steve reached out to him instinctively, trying to offer comfort. ‘Tony? Natasha, what –’

‘сукин сын!’ Natasha spun on her heel and struck him across the face with the flat of her hand. Steve staggered backwards, feeling a small bone in his cheek crack, raising his hand to his face.

‘What – I don’t understand, I –’

‘I thought you were my friend. I trusted you.’ Tony’s rough, hoarse voice from the floor made them both turn, suddenly silent. ‘Steve - _Captain_. You – I _trusted_ you.’ His voice broke on the last words, and Steve fell to his knees beside him.

‘Tony – what did I do? I thought – it just powers the suit, right? Right?’ There was an edge of desperation in his voice. Tony turned away from him, his whole body shuddering with the aftermath of terror, and Natasha grabbed Steve’s face in one hand, squeezing too tightly over his fractured cheekbone, forcing him to look at her. She stared at him for a long moment, then let her hand drop.

‘Fucking _idiot_. He’s telling the truth.’ She pushed roughly against his shoulder. ‘It powers his _heart_ , Rogers. Didn’t you read anyone’s file?’

‘I – nobody offered, and I thought – that stuff’s private. If you don’t choose to tell me, I have no right –’

‘You have a _responsibility_ ,’ Natasha spat, her eyes full of scorn. ‘You’re supposed to be the leader of this team, and you know nothing! How can any of us trust you if you don’t care enough to find out the basics of how to keep us safe?’

‘You – you really didn’t know? Really?’ Tony’s voice was still rough, but he was looking at Steve now, a small spark of hope behind the betrayal in his eyes. Steve held out a hand to him, imploring.

‘Tony, I swear I didn’t. I would never do anything to hurt you; not ever. I thought it was just for the suit, not – oh, God, your _heart_. Tony, I’m so sorry.’

Tony just looked at him, but he reached his hand out hesitantly towards Steve’s. His fingertips were just brushing over Steve’s palm when Natasha spoke again, her voice heavy with contempt.

‘He’s an idiot. Let’s not waste any more time. Come on, let’s get out of here.’ She pushed Steve aside, taking Tony’s hand in her own and helping him to his feet. Tony cast one glance back at Steve, and then he was gone as Natasha led him out of the door. Steve could only trail behind them, shaking with reaction, nauseous with guilt. There was no way he could ever make up for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha's Russian outburst means, roughly, 'son of a whore'. It's probably best that Steve doesn't know this.
> 
> Many thanks to Darkflame for the correction of my translation!


	2. Chapter 2

It was amazing how much better a shower could make you feel. Tony had never been happier to have a bathroom installed in the Stark Industries jet he had kept on standby to fly the team home from Latveria. He had spent a long time under the hot water, washing the grime from his body and hair, waiting for his hands to stop shaking. Afterwards, dressed in a soft, old sweater and jeans and smelling faintly of sandalwood and spice, he had even managed a genuine smile at Steve as the Captain passed him on his way into the bathroom. He had looked worse than Tony; his face pale and his eyes shadowed, a dark bruise blooming high on his cheek. He had barely managed to return Tony’s smile before looking abruptly away and closing the bathroom door firmly behind him.

Tony looked up, frowning. That had been over an hour ago, and he hadn’t seen Steve since. Tony had lost track of time, curled on one of the sofas, flicking through journals with Bruce, but they were almost two hours into the flight now and Steve hadn’t come back to join the rest of the team. He laid his journal down, standing up and stretching. ‘Just going to stretch my legs,’ he told Bruce. ‘Back in a bit.’ Bruce nodded, engrossed in his reading, and Tony walked around the back of the sofa, looking over towards the bathroom door.

Steve was sitting very still in the corridor, leaning against the wall, out of costume now and dressed simply in blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt. His knees were bent up, his arms around his lower legs, and Tony could see his shoulders shaking very slightly. His head was bowed, his face hidden from view, but as Tony watched a tear fell onto Steve’s jeans, making a small dark circle on the denim where it landed. He looked utterly lost, and Tony felt something deep in the pit of his stomach flip over in sympathy. He padded quietly over to Steve, and then dropped down to sit beside him, nudging his shoulder gently with his own.

‘Hey.’ Tony’s voice was soft. Steve looked up at him, startled and wide-eyed. He had clearly been crying for a long time; his eyes were bloodshot and his nose red, his cheeks wet with tears. Tony sighed and shifted towards him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. ‘Hey, what’s all this? Come here.’ He pulled Steve towards him, and he rested his head on Tony's shoulder, his breath hitching with soft sobs. Tony held him quietly, but after a moment Steve pulled away to look into his face.

‘Tony, I – I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I –’

‘You didn’t know. It’s okay; I get it. I believe you.’

‘You do?’ Steve’s eyes were very wide.

‘Sure.’ Tony laughed softly. ‘I’ve seen you play poker, Cap; you’re a terrible liar. And if you wanted to kill me, you had plenty of time before Tasha got there, instead of keeping me entertained with your war stories.’ He smiled. ‘Which, yeah, thanks, by the way. I needed the distraction.’

‘But I hurt you –’

‘And now I’m fine, and you’re sitting here breaking your heart over it. Things happen, Steve. Things happen, and we get over them and move on. We can do that, right?’

Steve nodded, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes. Tony was suddenly reminded of how young he really was – twenty-four or twenty-five in real terms, certainly no more than that, despite his seventy years on ice. Impulsively, he pulled him closer, brushing a light kiss over his damp blond hair. ‘Hey, no more tears, okay? You made a mistake, that’s all. No harm done.’

Steve sniffed, looking up at him, his eyes very bright and his eyelashes dark and wet. ‘I thought I’d lost everything. I thought I’d lost you for sure, and the Avengers – you’re all I have, you know? And I hurt you, Tony, I can’t stand to think what might have –’

‘Enough of that.’ Tony’s voice was firm, but there was an undercurrent of kindness behind the words. ‘You haven’t lost anyone. I’m fine, and I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. End of story, okay?’

‘But Natasha –’

‘Tasha’ll come round. I’ll talk to her.’ Tony sighed. ‘Look, you have to remember, she didn’t grow up hearing about Captain America the hero like the rest of us. She’s Russian, and – well, I don’t know how much you know about their history, but relations between Russia and America got way worse after the war. In fact, we almost had a third war in the sixties; we were literally hours away from it. So I guess you were kind of the bogeyman in her childhood.’ Tony held up a hand, interrupting Steve as he started to speak. ‘Which is _not your fault_. She just needs to start seeing you as Steve rather than Captain America. She’ll get there.’

Steve nodded slowly. ‘I can see that. We – we’re okay, right?’

‘Course we are.’ Tony squeezed his shoulder once. ‘Now, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go and wash your face; there’s bound to be paparazzi waiting to see your star-spangled smile when we get back, and right now you look as though someone ran over your puppy. And then you’re going to come and sit with me and Bruce, and we’re going to watch a movie for the rest of the flight. Have we shown you Star Wars yet?’

Steve shook his head, and Tony grinned. ‘Then you’re in for a treat, young padawan. Come on, up with you. Five minutes, then I’m coming in after you, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Steve gave him a hesitant smile. ‘And, Tony? Thanks. And I’m –’

‘Ah!’ Tony held up a hand, stopping him. ‘No more apologies. We’re fine; it’s over. Once we get back, I’ll fill you in on Afghanistan and Stane and all the rest of it, but for now, it’s movie time. Off with you. Four minutes.’

Steve took him at his word, disappearing into the bathroom without further protest. Tony crossed back over to the sofas, settling himself down and instructing JARVIS to bring up the first of the original Star Wars trilogy. From the armchair across from him, Bruce raised an eyebrow. ‘All okay?’

‘Fine. Cap was just having a shaky moment; I’ll tell you about it when we get home. Nothing to worry about.’ He looked up with a smile as Steve walked hesitantly over to him, his eyes still a little red-rimmed but the tearstains gone from his face. ‘Hey, Steve, come and sit with me. You’ll love this movie; it’s a classic.’

Steve settled in beside him with a small smile, leaning slightly against Tony’s shoulder as the movie started and the familiar text began to roll across the screen. He did seem to be enjoying the story, but Tony could feel him leaning more heavily against him as the movie went on, and by the time Obi-Wan Kenobi was viewing Leia’s holographic message, Steve’s eyes were drifting closed.

‘Hey, you falling asleep on us there?’ Tony’s voice was gentle, and Bruce looked up at him, surprised at the lack of teasing in his tone. Steve blinked and looked around at him.

‘Sorry – I am enjoying it, I just – it’s been a long day.’

Tony laughed softly. ‘That it has. Well, never mind, we can watch the rest at home. Come on; lie down. You might as well get some sleep before we get back. We’ve still got a couple of hours to go.’

Steve smiled, then stretched out on the seat beside Tony. Tony put an arm across his shoulder, settling Steve’s head into his lap, and pulled his jacket from the back of the seat, draping it over Steve’s shoulders. He sat quietly, carding his fingers absently through Steve’s hair, half-watching the movie as Bruce went back to his journal.

‘Really?’

Tony looked up in surprise; he hadn’t heard Natasha move, but suddenly she was standing beside him, looking down at Steve, her expression unreadable.

‘He’s okay, Tasha. I’m okay. You said yourself, he didn’t know. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt us; I’m sure of it. Give him a chance.’

Natasha gave a non-committal hum under her breath, looking down at Steve for a long moment. At last, she looked back at Tony, her expression still hard, but the hint of something softer in her eyes.

‘One chance, Stark. That’s all he gets.’

‘That’s all he’ll need. Thanks, Tasha. And – thanks for saving me, before.’ Tony’s voice was soft now, and Natasha huffed at him impatiently.

‘We take care of each other. It’s what we do.’ She looked down at him for a moment, watching Steve sleeping in his lap, and then gave him a half-smile before turning away to rejoin Clint in their game of cards. Tony looked down at Steve, letting his fingers rest in his blond hair, and smiled as he spoke very quietly.

‘Yeah. It’s what we do.’


End file.
